A Tale of Two Lovers
by ImaginaryLondoner
Summary: Before his execution, Charles Darnay reflects on his forbidden love for Sydney Carton. Both of them pretended to love Lucie so they could be closer to each other, but neither knew of the other's feelings until it was too late.


**A Tale of Two Lovers**

Charles Evrémonde sat in his prison cell, awaiting his death. _Not Evrémonde, Darnay, _he told himself as he signed his letter. Darnay was the name he had given himself, to separate himself from his cruel family. Charles Darnay had been born an aristocrat, but he willingly left that life to live by his own means. It had been his choice to leave France, and it was his choice to return. He had gone to prove the innocence of an old friend, but instead found himself on trial for his life.

He determined his own fate, and his current situation was no one's fault but his. He had been ignorant of the new laws established in the revolution. The citizens of Paris had condemned him to die because of his relation to the Evrémonde family. Though his new family had tried to save him, their attempts were in vain. Charles had no choice but to accept his fate. These peasants could not make him ashamed of who he was, as he had taken no part in his old family's crime. He was proud of the life he had made for himself, even if that life would end because of his foolish mistakes. He had dug his own grave, and now he would face his death with all the dignity that was required of someone of his status.

Once the ink had dried, Charles folded his letter carefully. This was his last message to his precious family. He knew his wife Lucie and their child who was also named Lucie would be distraught, and the thought of them crying over him broke his heart. He also feared that his father-in-law would blame himself for his death. Charles realized that he might have been able to get off if not for his father-in-law's written record of the crimes of the Evrémonde family, but there was no use making the old man feel guilty about it. Instead, he wrote of his love for them and hope of seeing them again in the next life.

Charles sighed and leaned back in his chair. There was nothing to do now but wait. He closed his eyes and put the thoughts of his family out of his mind. He had written to Lucie that his last thoughts would be of her, but that was a lie. As much as Charles cared for his dear friend Lucie, he had never truly been in love with her. Though he had married her and shared a bed with her, she was no more than a friend to him. He loved another, but had never been able to act on his feelings.

Charles had been honest with his friends and true to himself in everything but this. He knew his love was forbidden, and recognizing it would bring nothing but pain to those he cared for. He considered writing to this man he loved, but decided against it. If Lucie discovered it, her memory of him would be ruined. Even now, he could not bear the idea of breaking her fragile heart. Yet his greatest fear was that his beloved would be disgusted to know of his true feelings for him.

Though the Englishman had seemed to despise his French doppelgänger when they met, Charles had become close friends with Sydney Carton. When he saw Sydney in the courtroom for the first time, he knew that the man was something special. His brilliant mind had saved Charles from being convicted of treason, and he had been the first to notice the striking resemblance between the two of them. For a brief and wonderful moment, Charles had allowed himself to hope that Sydney might share the intense attraction he felt, but it was not to be.

Sydney had fallen for Lucie the instant he saw her. Charles thought that if he could not have the man he wanted, then he would take a wife and try to forget his silly fancy. Yet in his dreams he was haunted by the drunken barrister. The scent of port wine on his breath intoxicated Charles. His disheveled appearance and insolent attitude were not flaws, but only added to how attractive he was. That rough voice and sardonic sense of humor drove Charles mad with longing. Yet it was only in his dreams that he could explore his desires, and he would always wake up the moment before Sydney's lips could meet his own.

Knowing that Sydney would sometimes grace Lucie and her father with his presence, Charles would frequent their house in hope of finding him there. He would pretend that he was there to see Lucie, but as he chatted with her his eyes would stray and search for the real object of his affection. On the occasions that Sydney was there, he would stand by the window away from everyone else. Charles was tempted to go to him and ask what he was thinking about, but he sensed that he would not appreciate that. He left the young lawyer to brood, admiring his beauty from afar. _So lonely, yet so lovely,_ Charles thought as his gaze lingered on Sydney for several moments too long. He had to be careful how he looked at Sydney. If his lust for his look-alike was discovered, the life he had created for himself in England could be destroyed.

He wanted to end his obsession with this man, he knew it was unhealthy and would come to nothing, but he simply could not keep himself away. As time went on, Charles visited Lucie more often, and she seemed to hope their friendship might become something more. His marriage to Lucie would break Sydney's heart, but it would also allow him to be closer to him than ever. Sydney had already broken his heart, and it was time for both of them to move on in life.

So Charles married Lucie and lived happily with her for many years. She could never replace Sydney in his heart, but she was a good companion. Sydney had become a member of their family, and even apologized for his initial rudeness to Charles. Though Sydney's unrequited love for Lucie was still apparent, Charles managed to suppress his feelings for Sydney. Yet now those old feelings consumed him, and he did not fight them. If he had to die, he would die knowing he had experienced love in its purest and most painful form. The blade of the guillotine would come as a relief from a lifetime of heartache.

As Charles wondered where Sydney was at that moment, he heard the lock on his door open. Then he saw his beloved enter his cell, a finger held up to his lips, telling him to stay quiet. He could not have made a sound if he wanted to, he was in shock. God must have taken mercy on him in his despair, his most desperate wish had been granted. He was able to see Sydney one last time. His heart melted in his breast.

There was something bright and remarkable in his look that Charles had never seen before. This was not the same discontent lawyer who sat slumped in his chair in that courtroom so many years ago. He had come to this prison with a purpose.

For a moment, Charles feared that he might be an apparition. But then Sydney took his hand, and it was a real grasp. He gazed into his idol's eyes and saw himself reflected in them. Their resemblance was uncanny now. They were both unshaved, unwashed, and completely in love. Their feelings were plain on their faces.

Charles wished that death could take him in that moment of happiness. Staring into Sydney's eyes, peering into his soul, he knew for certain that he shared his affection. All the wasted years meant nothing, they were together now. Dying would not be so hard if he could spend his final moments with the man he loved.

"Of all the people upon earth, you least expected to see me?" Sydney said.

"I could not believe it to be you. I can scarcely believe it now," Charles gasped. Suddenly, a horrible thought occurred to him. If Sydney was sentenced to die as well, all his strength would leave him. "You are not a prisoner?" he asked.

"No," Sydney assured him. "We have no time, you must do as I say. Take off those boots you wear, and draw on these of mine."

Charles hesitated, not understanding what was going on, but Sydney could not waste a moment. With lightning speed, he took off his boots and handed them the Charles. Flustered, Charles attempted to unlace his own boots, but he could not untie the knot. Sydney kneeled to help him.

"Wait, I have to tell you—you must know—" Charles stammered.

"I know," Sydney came up and kissed Charles full on the mouth. Heaven could not have been sweeter than the taste of his lips.

Charles broke out of the kiss, he had to get a hold of himself. It was enough to know that Sydney cared for him, and that was all he could have. He could not indulge in any hope that his soul mate would save him so they could be together. Sydney was putting himself in danger by being there.

"Carton," Charles began, still used to calling his lover by his surname. "Sydney, there is no escaping from this place. You will only die with me. It is madness."

"It would be madness if I asked you to escape, but do I?" Sydney said as he took the ribbon from Charles's hair. "Shake out your hair like this of mine."

Charles grabbed Sydney by his wrists, tears in his eyes. "This cannot be done. I implore you not to add your death to the bitterness of mine. What are you planning?"

Sydney ignored his question, instead giving him further instruction. "Change that cravat for this of mine, that coat for this of mine." He helped Charles remove his coat. The sensation of those rough hands on his body was too much for Charles. With the coat off, he embraced Sydney and kissed him with even more passion than before. As their tongues danced in their mouths, Sydney forced Charles onto the straw bed.

"Take off your shirt and remove your trousers" Sydney breathed, unbuckling his pants. With wonderful quickness, and with a strength both of will and action that appeared quite supernatural, he forced al these changes upon him. Soon they were both lying naked on the bed.

Charles trusted that Sydney knew what he was doing. He could no longer worry about what would happen to them in the next hour. His fantasies were about to become reality. Whatever was in store for him in the next world, it could not compare to this.

Charles lay on his back with his legs spread apart, trembling. Sydney fell upon him, kissing his mouth, his chin, his throat. The prisoner gripped the barrister by his stringy hair as he moaned with pleasure. They whispered words of love in each others' ears, words that had been kept secret for so long.

Charles begged his lover to come inside him, to make him complete for the first and final time in his life. Sydney obeyed, and they became one. Charles gasped with pain, but it was a good kind of pain, he embraced it and wanted more. Sydney grunted as he pushed himself in further, sweat dripping from his brow.

Barsad, the spy who had helped Sydney into the prison, stood outside the cell and listening to the two men fuck. Charles was blissfully unaware of this fact, and Sydney did not give a damn.

Seeing his beloved's ecstasy intensified Charles's pleasure. The pace of their love making quickened. Charles bit on Sydney's shoulder so hard that he broke the skin. His lover's blood dripped onto him, staining his chest with red. Sydney hardly seemed to notice, as he was reaching his climax. Charles felt himself nearing it too, his passion doubling each second. They cried out as they surrendered themselves to their pleasure.

They came together, but they could not remain together. Sydney wished he could hold his soul mate, savoring the loving glow that washed over them, but instead he rolled off of him and got out of bed. It took all Sydney's willpower to resist staying there with his man, but he was running out of time. If he remained in bed with Charles they would have another hour together at most, and then they would both go to their deaths. No, he could not let that happen. He was the one who had to go on alone.

Sydney had never intended to leave this prison as a free man. His friends believed he had only gone to the prison to say farewell to his dying friend, but they were mistaken. Charles was not the one who would die that day. Sydney swore to himself to save his darling Charles, no matter what the cost. He had no illusions about escaping and living a happy life, he was content to know that his other half had a chance at surviving. Their resemblance would save his life a second time, because it allowed Sydney to die in his place.

Sydney dressed himself in Charles's trousers and shirt. This action made Charles suspicious, but he could not yet comprehend was his lover was doing. Sydney reached into the pocket of his own coat, pulling out a cloth and something else that Charles could not see. Then he remembered where he was and what was in store for him.

"Sydney, my dear Sydney, you must leave this place," Charles urged, still too slow to understand.

Fully prepared for what he was about to do, Sydney turned to the man that he would give his life for. He held a cloth in his hand that smelled of strange chemicals. Finally, Charles figured out what he meant to do. The realization made his heart skip a beat. He had to do something to stop this irrational course of action, but he couldn't move.

"It's better this way," said Sydney.

"No, I—" Charles's plea was muffled as Sydney forced the cloth over his nose and mouth. He struggled, but he was already growing weak, while Sydney was stronger than ever. _I love you_, he thought as he slipped out of consciousness. A tear trickled down his face as he closed his eyes, passed out.

_I know_, Sydney thought. _But_ _I love you more._

Sydney had always been disappointed with himself, and nothing disappointed him more than his failure to admit his feelings for Charles. Now he was finally content with who he was, there was no need for him to put his devotion into words. Charles would live to see another day, and he would know it was Sydney's undying love that saved him.

Sydney had always been fond of Charles, though he had not realized it at first. He had originally resented the foppish man, because he represented everything he failed to achieve in his unaccomplished life. Later he discovered his feelings were much more complicated. Charles was not the man he could never be, but the man he could never have. Even if Charles could return his romantic feelings, Sydney knew their love could never be. A relationship with him would make him an outcast, and Sydney did not want to see his dear French immigrant lose the happy life he had built in England. He could only admire him from afar, frequently finding himself outside his bedroom window at night. He occasionally visited Lucie's home in order to be closer to Charles, utterly unaware that Charles was there for the very same reason.

Lucie was his friend, but his affection for her was nothing compared to what he felt for her husband. He cared about her, but he did not mean to die for her happiness. He would sacrifice his life for Charles purely because he loved him more than he ever loved his own wretched life. There was nothing in the world more precious to him than Charles Darnay.

After dressing an unconscious Charles in his clothing, he bid him farewell with a kiss on the forehead. Barsad, who was in a very bitter mood after being blackmailed and forced to listen to the lovers fornicate, carried Charles out of the prison. He made sure he got on the coach that would take him and his family back to England. He had taken Sydney's place on the coach, as Sydney had taken his place in the cell. Knowing that Charles was safe, Sydney found peace.

Charles may have been safe, but he would never be whole again. When he woke up, it took him a moment to grasp where he was and what had happened. When he realized that he was still alive, he sobbed, because that meant that Sydney was dead. Lucie cried too, but her tears were mingled with the joy of having her husband returned to her. Charles had lost the man who should have been his husband. He would never again feel the warmth of Sydney's body, the embrace of his arms, or the kiss of his wine-stained lips.

But Sydney would always be there in his dreams, and he would never wake until the ghost of Sydney Carton had sufficiently had his way with him.


End file.
